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"Tara! Of course Roland and I see to the lower floor as soon as it gets dark!" Katia assured her "Just as always"

"Of course," Tara said Actually, she had never thought aboutcertain that the house was locked up

"Thank you! Bonne nuit!" she said, and started up the stairs herself

She looked into her grandfather’s rooe of protective uneasiness

The curtains were open; the doors to the balcony were ajar as well, allowing in a touch of fresh air

Tara closed therandfather’s bed

His chest rose and fell in the deep breathing of relaxed sleep

She leaned down over his forehead She ca just the hint of a kiss upon his brow

In her own room, she yawned Like Ann, she was exhausted She took a ard looking Luckily, she wasn’t as pale as Ann

Her cousin worked long, long hours Tara was ostensibly on vacation, but she loved what she did And she hadn’t so much as stopped anywhere to buy canvas and paints

She left the mirror, drew back the covers, kicked off her shoes, and paused A sense of unease had filled her again

It suddenly seemed all-important to make sure that her room, like the main door, had been securely locked

She walked to her balcony doors Her drapes were closed She didn’t open them, but drew one aside

She checked her doors, and felt a strange sense of relief to find theh the panes at the night

And there, in the strange pale glow of a half ain

The aniht--or a creature at the portal of Hades

Perhaps it had three heads, like the deend

It did not She could see the anilow It was massive "That’s no shepherd!" she muttered aloud

As she did so, she suddenly heard a howl

Deep, chilling A howl to the sky, the heavens, the moonor hell itself

Tara started to shiver

She closed the curtains, and turned, but had to look again

There was no wolf on the road There was nothing

Nothing but the shadows of the night

CHAPTER 9

The drea, res The shots that sent an unbelievable burning sensation streaking through his liainst the steel bonds that held hi hi had irew, and frolean , the tyrant had held an advantage, but now the tide was turning

And in the ony, there was comfort to be had in that

In another time, in another place, he had sat with his father by a streaht a different war, survived, and learned in tiht his son that there were e old th He didn’t fear death Far too often, he would have welcoave him the will to survive Weiss, who told him stories about his people Those who risked their lives to save others, and those ere not so lucky as to escape detection, who had given their lives for others He uards who stood with their eyes averted when Weiss helped him, and a woman, the mistress of one of the worst of the officers, who smiled in the man’s face, and did her best to help prisoners escape Weiss would often whisper to hiht He would hear about the war, and about the world, and about people People who ed badly

There were those ere passionately against the regime, but were afraid Not so much for themselves For their wives, their children, their loved ones But one day, the world would know that there had been heroes aainst insanity

And he believed It was easy, because he knew Weiss

His will to live grew, because of Weiss’s constant flow of news, and because of the bits of conversation he began to hear, and co had bogged down in Russia, and this new eneony before--the landscape itself was often id te her sons, a people battered by brutality and discrireat effort was cruan to take heart, and fight back

In those days he learned that he would never judge any man, or woion, their sex Goodness ca this man, his friend, Weiss, and the others, whose humanity continued to override their fear